


Crack Eyez 2: Revamped Revenged Reloaded

by JeanJavert



Series: Crack Eyez [2]
Category: Supernatural, The Vampire Diaries (TV), Until Dawn (Video Game)
Genre: Crack Treated Seriously, Crossover, Gen, Gift Fic, Multi, Sequel, Wolf Pack
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-01-07
Updated: 2018-01-20
Packaged: 2019-03-01 11:36:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,344
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13294041
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JeanJavert/pseuds/JeanJavert
Summary: A new menace haunts the Blackwood hills.  At the height of the Albertan summer, it's up Damon and Chris to work together and save the day.  Sun's out, guns out, brah!





	1. The Wolfman Cometh

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Gimlisonofgloin](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gimlisonofgloin/gifts), [RedCave](https://archiveofourown.org/users/RedCave/gifts).



> I told myself I wasn't gonna do this, but here we are.

‘This,’ thought Chris, ‘this is what I’m doing on my summer vacation: returning _again_ to the _same_ _fucking mountain_ where I spent the two worst nights of my life. Obviously I’ve got some kind of _50 Shades_ glutton-for-punishment bullshit that I need to work through.’

 

Up ahead, Damon ‘Washington’ Salvatore tripped over a branch and challenged it to a duel at twenty paces for the slight against his person.

 

_I’m stuck with this douchebag vampire, too._

With no pair of pistols in sight, Damon settled for sticking his tongue out at the offending piece of dead wood. Chris’ hand was halfway to his phone to text his girlfriend about the dumb thing Mr. Washington was doing at the moment, but remembered that he’d broken up with Ashley, and let his hand fall limply at his side.

 

_Was it really for the best? Were we so incompatible?_

Josh had sulked for a few days after he found Chris crying into a tub of mint chocolate chip and learned that, “all his hard working getting Chris his dream girl was flushed down the shitter just because they liked different boats.” At that point, Chris flung the half-eaten tub of ice cream at his friend with a shriek of: “For the last fucking time, they’re ‘ships’ you moron, and what she ships is inexcusable!” Josh handed him back the tub in apology, which Chris gratefully accepted before dissolving into tears. The human-Wendigo hybrid scampered off to nurse his own sore feelings with comfort food, albeit in the county morgue and not the dairy aisle of Loblaw’s.

 

Even so, his best bro was better than he’d been, which was saying something for a flesh eating creature of the night. The guy had come a long way from being chained up with Winchester-powered restraints in the basement, how he’d spent the first weeks of his return to civilization. Now months later at the height of summer, he was working on his GED online and getting regular therapy sessions with a more reputable counselor than Dr. Hill. His Aunt Bonnie, whom he didn’t know until she arrived on the Washington doorstep and punched his dad in the face in greeting, worked what was literally ‘her magic’ to shrink him down to even more of a human size in addition to what the angel Castiel had done for him weeks prior. Pale, gaunt, tall, and mostly hairless, Josh still would never look like himself, but at least he could pick up more ice cream for his moping buddy without inciting mass terror at the supermarket.

 

When kids he’d gone to school with ran into him around town and asked what the hell happened to him, we thought you were dead, why are you so fucking tall, etc., he simply answered, “hella drugs, man. That bad shit,” and loped off into the night.

 

His legacy would bring about a renaissance of drug education and resistance at the local high school for years to come. Speaking of drugs…

 

For the past few weeks, Josh had heard rumors of a pale figure haunting the forests of Blackwood Mountain at his Narcotics Anonymous support meetings. The crowd at AA, which was held Thursday nights instead of Tuesday, confirmed these whisperings. Chris was really proud of how hard his bro was working to overcome the urge to eat human flesh (though he had to fudge what the actual substance of his addiction truly was during meetings). He’d tagged along to a couple meet ups, leaving with greater understanding and respect for these folks making an effort to fight their demons.

 

_Now, if only someone would fight the demon walking in front of me…_

As if he sensed the teen’s disdainful thoughts, Damon whipped around and gave him the patented Crack Eyez look of confusion/disgust/mirth.

 

“Less internal monologuing and more walking, private. This ‘pale figure’ isn’t gonna find itself.”

 

Just to spite Damon, the surrounding forest spat out a wolf onto their path, which then turned back to the wood and tilted its head in a way that clearly meant they should follow. Damon brayed unattractively and ambled into the trees after the animal. Chris regretted his offer to accompany Mr. Washington to investigate what was possibly another Wendigo on the loose. What he _thought_ was a wise move to supply the brains to the vampire’s brawn was turning out to be just a colossal headache.

 

Nevertheless, Chris feared the mountain more than the undead lush ambling after the wolf, so he double-timed to catch up. They reached a small clearing, where Chris saw-

 

“Mike?! What the hell? What are you doing here?”

 

Mike gazed solemnly at them as the wolf trotted to his side and sat down with the other dogs grouped around the teen.  


“I am of the pack now. Their victories, their sorrows, are my own. We hunt together, and thus live as one.”

 

The pack, consisting of the wolf Mike had become bros with a year previous, a pair of stray poodles, and a Chihuahua, barked their agreement. Chris wondered if all his friends were doomed to Blackwood Mountain Stockholm syndrome. Damon wondered if he could squeeze a little red stuff from the small yippy one without anyone’s knowledge, he was parched damnit.

 

The Wolfman Cometh turned the tide of interrogation back at them.

 

“But what are you doing here? Didn’t you say that you would ‘never put a fucking toe on this god-forsaken mountain for the rest of my McFreakin’ life I swear to Chuck’ when we were rescued last year?” he asked Chris, who was looking shiftier than usual.

 

“Well, you know, things change, thought I’d take Mr. Washington up here to see…to see where it all happened, get some closure. Good stuff.”

 

Mike’s hackles raised. Chris only said ‘good stuff’ when he was hiding something.

 

“You are returning,” he said slowly, “to a place where not one but three of our friends died with their negligent father in tow for….closure. Why don’t I believe you?”

 

He didn’t believe him because Damon was a sketch-@$$ mothertrucker who looked like death microwaved on the lowest setting.

 

Meanwhile, Chris could barely wrap his mind around this new, canine-ly regal Mike. Sure, Mike had left the pack- _‘left the pack!’ Oh god, it’s contagious-_ of Blackwood survivors and barely showed up at school anymore, but they’d chalked his growing reclusiveness up to something less concerning, like heroin or Overwatch. Ashley said she’d put a few extra lumps of tea leaves in the pot to do a special divination for him. But Ashley also said she shipped Wincest, so he didn’t put much stock in her judgment. Anymore.

 

_Why did it have to end the way it did?_

 

_..._

_Hold, three friends died? That’s not right. Uh oh, does he know about Josh?_

Chris broke the silence of Damon and Mike sizing each other up.

 

“What do mean three friends? We’ve lost four,” said Chris, affecting what he hoped was a sorrowful demeanor. He also hoped that Josh’s father would pick up on the ‘play along you fucking idiot’ brainwaves he was broadcasting. To be fair, Damon tried his best. To be purely objective as a paragon of unbiased thinking, that still wasn’t very good.

 

“My three adorable offspring died in unavoidable accidents here. Who’s this fourth loser?”

 

Chris couldn’t believe- no wait, he could- that Damon only remembered his own kids’ deaths.

 

“Jess, Mike’s girlfriend. She was never found by search and rescue. She probably didn’t survive the ‘animal attacks.’”

 

Mike’s impassive façade cracked for a second. It was clear that Damon had no knowledge of this Jess girl, but he pushed on like did.

 

“Oh yeah, bummer. Well damn, don’t I feel all closured up now! Come on, Destiel_Shipper_5ever,eh?, let’s see if we can find a place in town that won’t look too hard at your ID and get trashed,” cheered Damon, grabbing the teen in a supernaturally strong hold and dragging him back to the mountain trail. With considerable self-recrimination for not realizing sooner, Chris admitted that he was the only person his best friend’s father could possibly call a friend.

 

Gross.

 

“It was nice seeing you, Mike,” called Chris over his shoulder as Damon hustled him down the path, “I’ll tell everyone you say hi!” _And that you’ve gone full American Werewolf, yikes._

They hadn’t gone more than a few yards away when Mike’s wolf bro bounded over and blocked their descent. Mike and his doggy pals circled the pair, growling. It was fine for the assortment of stray dogs, but less so for a high school senior in last season’s Abercrombie line. Chris almost missed the days when Mike and his football cronies would just bully him lightly before, during, and after school.

 

But those were simpler times.

 

“No, you heard me. Three friends,” barked Mike. Chris began to sweat. Damon misplaced his temper as he was wont to do.

 

“Alright Prince Mononoke, spit it out. What’re you trying to say here?”

 

Mike side-eyed Damon something fierce.

 

“Jess isn’t dead.”

 

_What?_

 

“Jess isn’t dead,” Mike repeated. “She never left the mountain.”

 

Chris had a flashback to earlier that year when the vampire currently gripping his shoulder with enough force to break it had said the same about his son. He didn’t believe Washington Sr. at first, but sure enough… The circumstances were different, however. Chris had known deep down that there was enough, uh, ‘food’ available for Josh to survive, albeit in monstrous form. Jess was most certainly eaten by one of the Wendigo before ever getting a chance to become one.

 

“Mike, man, I know it’s been rough, it’s been rough on all of us. But you gotta face the facts, and the facts say that Jess’ blood was found but no Jess, and that she would have died one way,” here Chris raised his eyebrows meaningfully, “or another.”

 

Mike’s brow furrowed and he took a menacing step forward.

 

“I’m telling you, Jess is here, somewhere.”

 

In a rare moment of self-awareness, Damon wondered if that’s how unhinged he appeared earlier in the spring. He didn’t let a little thing like personal growth hinder his mission to constantly be a giant dick, though.

 

“Jess? Oh yeah, I think I remember her now from the twins’ Sweet Sixteen party. Wasn’t she that slutty- ”

 

Mike backhanded the man so hard he flew into the next chapter.


	2. The Descent

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The wolf came over the mountain to see what he could see.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You can tell that I have pressing obligations remaining unfulfilled when I update so quickly.
> 
> I don't have a problem, YOU HAVE A PROBLEM!

Chapter 2: The Descent

 

Unfortunately, Damon’s vampire healing ensured that he survived Mike keeping his pimp hand strong. He flew through the air like a soggy bag of old leather before landing in the dirt of the mountain trail. The _thwump_ and accompanying bourbon fumes sent birds flapping out of the trees in fright and disgust. At least one took aim and fired as it flew over the vampire.

 

_I wonder if Ashley would’ve found that hilarious or sad._

Chris’ pity party was gatecrashed by a recovering Damon, who was always ready for a good time.

 

“Alright, I had that one coming. Bet you can’t do it again!”

 

Mike woofed softly. Upon command, the only actual wolf in the wolfpack bit Damon in the ass. Chris felt his spirits rise and he waded into the fray.

 

“Come one guys, break it up. Mr. Washington, stop screaming. Mike, put some Chuck-damned clothes on and come back to civilization,” he ordered, side-eyeing the discount caveman-werewolf costume Mike had clearly gotten from the after Halloween sale. Chris tried not to think too hard about why Mike had made such a purchase when he’d only met his wolf pal during winter, well after Halloween.

 

It was another mystery to never solved.

 

Mike dismissed his doggies with a series of yips and barks. They faded into the woods, growling in Damon’s direction. Damon tried to growl back, but it came out more like an airless shriek.

 

The douchebaggier of the two teens acquiesced to the demand, pulling his regular clothes out of the preppy backpack that had clashed horribly with mountain man outfit, and his hair.

 

_Ashley would have gotten than Harry Potter reference…_

Looking more or less like the heartless jock he was pre-Blackwood drama, Mike accompanied them back down the mountain. When they emerged in the nicely paved parking lot a scant few minutes later, Chris realized that the entire vampire-wolf standoff had taken place around the proverbial corner. Turning back they way they had come, he saw that he and Mr. Washington hadn’t even made it to the municipal park’s port-a-potties. They had not, in fact, been scaling the sinister mountain, but instead had struggled and sweated up the little path between the parked cars and the actual trailhead. At least that meant Mike wasn’t an actual wolfman who dropped out of school, he just liked playing with dogs in the park on the weekend. Speaking of the guy…

 

“I just want you to know,” said Mike as they got into ‘da Benz,’ as Damon liked to call it, “my return is temporary. I will return to the forest to reclaim my mate, for we wolves mate for life.” Damon, once again picking the worst time to recall information about his kids’ friends:

 

“We’re you dating that really loud chick before Jess?” he asked, going 70 in a 35 zone as he drove of the parking lot.

 

Mike didn’t even blink.

 

“I was not of the pack then, a blooded wolf, lethal hunter. The Mike you knew is gone. The one you see before you has been reborn. I am kin to the wolves.”

 

The car was silent, then:

 

“So…you’re a furry now?”

 

* * *

 

 

Crack Eyez Chapter 3 Preview:

  

“But what could that pale shape running through the Blackwood forest be?”

 

The other shoe dropped. Chris turned slowly to face Mike.

 

“When you…do your Dances with Wolves things on the weekend, are you…”

 

Mike couldn’t meet his eyes.

 

“The wolves… they do not need clothes, so it’s only logical that…”

 

Chris began to weep softly, mourning for the final nail in the coffin bearing the corpse of his ever having normal friends.

**Author's Note:**

> You're welcome, kouhai.


End file.
